The Only Exception
by southern.dreamz
Summary: C.M.Punk doesn't believe in Happily Ever After. He learned the hard way that love doesn't exist. What happens when he finds love in the most unexpected place? Will he take a chance or lose the most important person in his life? Feat: Punk/OC/Colt Cabana
1. Coming Home

_Nothing in life remained consistent. Every day brought something new. The only thing that stayed the same was that everything changed. Sometimes it was a change for the better. Sometimes it wasn't. That was the funny thing about life. There was no way to know for sure what was coming. All you could do was sit back and watch it unfold. It was a hard learned lesson but that's what being on the road nearly three hundred days a year did to a man. It made him a little cynical and slightly jaded. As if a guy like him needed the help. No, a guy like him was very much accustomed to getting kicked while he was down. _

Shielding his eyes as he stepped from the cab, Phil Brooks, better known to most of the world as C.M. Punk, smiled as he took a good look around. For the first time since he'd signed the mortgage, he stood in his very own driveway. A sense of pride moved through him as he looked at the ranch style house. Cedar siding, long ago turned a shade of dark gray, blended into the landscape. It was an older home but it was everything he wanted. Lights shone through the front door, beckoning him to step inside. His smile widened as he pulled two twenty dollar bills from his pocket and handed them to the cabby. Without looking back, he slung his bag over his shoulder and strode to the entry way.

As he drew closer he could hear the faint sound of heavy bass rumbling through the house. Shaking his head slightly, he reached for the doorknob. He wasn't surprised to find it unlocked. It was always the little things that tripped up his best friend and room mate. Dropping his bag in the foyer, Punk took a quick look around. A dark brow raised in amusement as he surveyed the living room. He expected to find the hundred or so cardboard boxes still stacked where the moving guys had left them. Instead everything had been neatly unpacked. The furniture was arranged exactly as it had been in the old apartment. Only now there was ten times the amount of space.

Turning in a slow circle, he realized the same could not be said for the dining room. Every available surface was covered with sheets of crisp, white drawing paper. The rectangles made an odd pattern of colors and textures. _Looks like Izzy's been busy _he thought as he by-passed the mess and moved to the kitchen. Shaking his head slightly he leaned against the door jamb. The mess had found it's way into the recently upgraded kitchen. The granite counter tops sported an even layer of paper. And in the middle of all the chaos sat the creator.

Elizabeth "Izzy" Webster sat on the center island beside the gourmet stove. Her slender back was turned to him. Her head swiveled slowly as she looked at each piece of paper in turn. God only knew what she was up to. But from the looks of things, she'd been at it a very long time indeed.

"So this is what you do when I'm not home?" Punk asked.

A startled yelp left Izzy as she jumped down from her perch. She whirled to face him, a look of utter surprise on her face. Recognition dawned a second after she looked at him.

"You ass! You scared the shit outta me." Izzy said as she pulled herself to her full height. She gave him a scathing look that would have made a lesser man melt.

At five feet six inches tall she barely came up to his shoulder. Her raven hair was scraped back into a loose knot. Tiny wisps escaped the haphazard arrangement to frame her face. Her blue gray eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. She had all of the intensity of a pissed off kitten. She may look sweet and innocent but Izzy wasn't a push over. She was as tough as they came. It was little wonder that Izzy had been his best friend for as long as he could remember.

"Sorry." He said as he shrugged one broad shoulder.

She stared at him for a long moment as if sizing him up. A moment later a half smile tugged at her lips.

"You were supposed to call when your plane landed." Izzy said as she looked him over from head to toe. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him until now. Relief washed through her as she looked him over from head to toe. Even though his worn Cubs baseball hat shaded his eyes, it was evident that he was exhausted. He looked like he needed to sleep for a month. But to Izzy, he'd never looked better.

Punk rolled his eyes as he shook his head slowly. "I did; five times as matter of fact. You didn't answer your phone."

Izzy's eyes widened slightly as she looked around the kitchen. She'd been so deep in thought that she hadn't heard her phone ringing. Reaching across the counter she scooped up the nearest stack of papers.

She cursed softly under her breath as she moved aside a second stack to no avail. Her phone was lost in the mess she'd created over the last four hours.

Punk laughed softly as he watched Izzy pick up every piece of paper in search of the missing item. "Do you have any idea where you left it?"

A guilty flush crept into her cheeks as she shot him a look. She honestly didn't remember where she had left her phone. More than likely she had set it down and instantly forgotten where. It wasn't the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last. "I know it's here somewhere."

He watched as Izzy stood on tiptoes and reached as far as she could. As she moved his eyes were drawn to her heart shaped bottom and the tell-tale rectangle in her back pocket. Biting back a grin Punk moved into the kitchen. Before Izzy could move he reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cell phone. Letting it dangle from his fingertips he tapped her on the shoulder.

"Looking for this?" He asked.

She looked at her phone then sagged in relief. "Thank you."

Taking the device from him, she turned and set it on the counter. "I'm sorry I didn't pick you up ..."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder he pulled her against his side. He leaned his hip against the counter as Izzy let him absorb her weight.

"Don't worry about it." Punk affectionately ruffled her hair. He motioned to the mountain of scattered paper, "So what's with the indoor snowfall?"

Izzy smiled as she glanced up at him. "Guess who has an interview at Wizard Comics on Monday?"

Punk pulled back enough to look down at Izzy. Her eyes shone with excitement. Izzy had struggled to find a happy middle ground over the last two years. She had tried to hold down a daily nine to five job but had been absolutely miserable. Corporate America was not her bag. The constant "Do this, don't do that" attitude had left her rather unimpressed. Her creativity had been shoved to the wayside as she tried to fit into some acceptable, comfortable little niche. But her heart had never been in it. She longed for the freedom to express herself; to be who she really was. So she'd quit daily grind and started doing what she loved most. She was a graphic artist. Comics were her preference. Although she struggled to regain her financial footing over the last two years, she'd never been happier. An interview with an upstart company was exactly what she needed to get back on her feet.

"Are you kidding me? Dude, that is awesome!"

Izzy smiled as she looked up at him. "I am so excited. If I can land this job, I'll be set for life."

Punk hugged her affectionately. He had no doubt that Izzy was more than talented enough. She was a born artist and her creativity knew no boundaries. She could draw anything she wanted. He'd always been a little envious of her ability to turn a blank page into something mesmerizing. She was talented beyond compare. All she needed was the opportunity to prove herself. He hoped for her sake that this was it. After giving Izzy a quick squeeze he dropped his arm from her shoulders and took a step back. He winked at her before turning away. "Get dressed. I'm taking you out to celebrate."

Izzy's lips parted in protest but he disappeared before she could say a word. Easing her weight against the counter, she couldn't help but smile. The day had turned out so much better than she expected. She was nearly finished selecting the drawings that would be added to her portfolio and her best friend was home well ahead of schedule. For the first time in a long while, things were starting to look up. If things worked out, her life might be exactly what she had been dreaming of.


	2. Sushi

_Kazoku_ Sushi House was the best kept secret in all of Chicago. The quaint little place was tucked away in an unsuspecting three story building. The red and black décor was inviting. And with as much time as they spent there, it was practically their second home.

Punk nodded in thanks as the waitress placed a bowl of edamame on the table.

"How was your trip?" Izzy asked as she picked a pod out of the bowl. She studied it for a second before splitting it open. She looked at the bright green spheres for a moment before looking up.

Punk shrugged as he toyed with the straw in his glass of water. "The usual."

Izzy's brow arched slightly as she popped the seasoned soybean into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully before responding. "You don't sound too thrilled."

Again, Punk shrugged a shoulder. "You know how it goes, Iz, Lots of travel, no sleep. Rinse, lather, repeat kind of deal."

Izzy nodded sympathetically as she studied his face. He seemed more exhausted than ever. Dark circles marred his tanned face. His usually expressive eyes were dull. "You feeling OK?"

Punk nodded then took a long drink. He sighed as he put it down on the table. "Nothing a few hours of sleep won't fix."

And that's exactly how much sleep he'd get. It was well known that Punk was an incurable insomniac. If he managed to get three hours a night, he was doing well. But that didn't change the fact that she worried about him. Life on the road was hard. He spent three quarters of the year in a different city every night. It had to be taking its toll on him. Izzy frowned as she wondered just how much longer he'd be able to keep up the frantic pace.

"So, what about you? What have you been up to?" Punk asked. The one thing he hated most was to talk about himself. He honestly believed he was the least interesting person on the planet. He'd much rather spend his time catching up on what Izzy had been doing. Although Izzy strongly disagreed with him, she knew it would do her no good to argue.

Instead she smiled faintly as she glanced up at him. "Just getting ready for the interview."

Punk returned her smile. For a moment his exhaustion disappeared. "You're gonna kill it. They'd be stupid not hire you."

Izzy felt a blush creep into her cheeks at his praise. While it wasn't often she cared what others thought, Punk's opinion actually mattered to her. He was one of the few people she knew would be honest with her. That was one of the things she respected most.

"I just really want this to work, you know." Izzy nodded slightly. "I need this to work. I have to start paying my own way again."

Punk frowned as he looked at Izzy. This was not the first time he'd heard her say that. Izzy didn't expect anyone to take care of her. She didn't like having to depend on someone else. She wanted to make her own way in the world. It had been awkward when she'd first moved in but they'd quickly settled into a routine. Without ever being asked, she kept the apartment spotless. She cooked as well as did laundry. She said it was the least she could do to earn her keep. Punk studied her a moment before shaking his head. It would do him no good to point out that she didn't have to do a damn thing. She could stay there as long as she wanted and never pick up so much as a Kleenex. It wouldn't bother him in the least. As long as she was living with him, he had one less thing to worry about.

A comfortable silence settled between them as they waited for their orders. Izzy toyed with her straw as she looked around the dining room. Punk watched the pedestrian traffic moving outside the tinted windows. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

"How are things with you and Romeo?" Punk's gaze moved from the window to her face.

She rolled her eyes and made a soft sound under her breath. "Why do you do that?"

Punk gave her an innocent smile. "Do what?"

Izzy scoffed softly. "You know exactly what. Stop being a pain."

Punk bit back a grin. Teasing Izzy was too easy sometimes. It didn't take much to bring a blush to her cheeks; especially when it came to her romantic life. He watched as pink crept into her smooth cheeks.

Her silvery eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at him. He was saved from her witty retort by the waitress' arrival. She set their plates down and quickly turned away.

"Really, Iz, how are things going between you?" Punk asked as he carefully unfolded the red napkin and draped it across his lap. He picked up a pair of bamboo chopsticks and chose a tuna roll before looking up at her.

Izzy studied her California rolls for moment. She visually inspected each piece as she thought about her answer. "It's good. We haven't seen much of each other. Sixx has been trying to find gigs out of town. Nobody wants to book them."

Punk's dark brow shot up as he chewed. There was something in Izzy's tone that made him think there was more to the story that what she was saying. Curiosity flickered through him. He'd love nothing more than to find out what, exactly, was going on, but he knew not to push Izzy. If she wanted to talk, she'd let him know. Until then, he'd just have to wait.

"If you want, I can call Nico to see if he's got an opening." Punk watched Izzy's reaction.

Her eyes widened at the mention of Nicolas "Nico" Diamante, owner of The Underground, one of Chicago's hottest places for Indie Rock bands. While it was no secret Punk was friends with the most influential people in Chicago, she'd never asked to use his connections. That was the unwritten rule. The fact he was offering to call in a favor surprised her. Saying yes was damn tempting. Without a doubt Nico would book Sixx's band, Wraith Oblivion. All she had to do was say yes. No matter how tempted she was, she knew she had to refuse. She already owed Punk more than she could ever repay. The last thing she needed was to ask for a favor of this magnitude.

"I'll talk to Sixx." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. But in the end, she knew it was better this way.

Punk nodded slightly before turning back to his dinner. He knew Izzy wasn't going to bring the subject up again. He could tell by the stubborn set of her chin. She had already made up her mind and there was nothing he could say to change it. Izzy was unyielding once she made up her mind. He speared a tuna roll and decided to change the subject.

"What did I miss this time around?"

Izzy's eyes flicked up to meet his. "Scott finally picked a date for the bonfire; the last Wednesday and Thursday in September."

Punk couldn't help but smile at the mention of their partner in crime; the last of their Three Musketeers. Scott "Colt Cabana" Colton had been Punk's constant sidekick since they'd begun their fledgeling careers. Almost from the start, they had been inseparable. There was never a dull moment when Scott was around. The amount of fun and trouble they could find knew no bounds. That was what made Scott's end of summer bash a tradition. For two days they'd camp on the beach and have the time of their lives. It was something Izzy always looked forward to.

Punk pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. He was quiet as he pulled up the calendar app and scrolled through to September. "Works for me."

Izzy heaved an inward sigh of relief. She'd been hoping Punk's schedule would allow him to be there. It wouldn't be the same without him. The little bit of time he actually had at home was limited. They rarely got to spend more than a few hours together. However, the bonfire would be 48 glorious interrupted hours. It was more than she could ask for. It was hard for her to keep the thrill of excitement at bay. Instead she nodded and picked up a piece of sushi. For the first time in a long time, things were starting to look up.


End file.
